


New Beginnings

by gumpekulla



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Bondage, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Light Dom/sub, M/M, No Androids, Oral Fixation, Overstimulation, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Spanking, Talk about rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15595926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gumpekulla/pseuds/gumpekulla
Summary: It's an eight hour commute between Detroit and Woodbridge, and Hank is tired of the long-distance relationship, when all he wants is to spend as many nights and days next to Connor as he can. Besides, Cole’s grown as attached to Connor as Hank himself. They need to start a new chapter of their lives, and Hank doesn't want to do that without Connor.The no Android AU no one asked for. NOW WITH A BONUS CHAPTER.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ages:  
> Cole 11  
> Hank 56  
> Connor 35
> 
> Everything about the FBI and the police station and the BAU is taken from Google or from the Criminal Minds wiki so yeah.
> 
>  
> 
> ***Revs engine* are you ready for a MF RIDE????**
> 
>  
> 
> Because this shit hit me outta nowhere. I started writing the backstory first but then it got too plotty so I skipped ahead two years in the timeline and here we are. Family fluff hidden between sections of smut. With little hints to a bigger story that happened way back and might never see the light of day, you'rE WELCOME.
> 
> *coughs* Anyway...sorry for the typos. I wrote this in one sitting over the course of a few hours. It's 02:16 am. I'm too old to be awake at this hour and still be coherent.
> 
> ALSO I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE CHILDREN I AM SORRY, I TRIED.

 

 

 

 

xXx

 

The decision to move to Woodbridge, Virginia had been relatively easy to make. Connor works at the BAU in Quantico, making a shiny hot career for himself, while Hank is in his fifties and stagnating after the Red Ice Task Force was dismantled. There's an opening in the PWCPD’s Special Investigation Bureau, and they reportedly took one look at his resume and accepted his application for a transfer out of Detroit effective immediately.

The only concern about the move had been Cole; he’s eleven and more attached to his life and friends in Detroit. Moving to a new State, starting a new school, sharing a house with his father's partner of two years, are a lot of rather large changes. But it's an eight hour commute between Detroit and Woodbridge, and Hank is tired of the long-distance relationship, when all he wants is to spend as many nights and days next to Connor as he can. Besides, Cole’s grown as attached to Connor as Hank himself. They need to start a new chapter of their lives, and Hank doesn't want to do that without Connor. 

Much to his relief, Cole doesn't either. In a lucky turn of events, his son is actually _excited_ about moving in with Connor. Hank may grumble about the unfairness of his son’s hero worship of FBI Special Agent Connor Stern, but he's not too far behind himself.

Once the decision has been made, and arrangements settled, the move is surprisingly quick. Thursday morning they pack the last box, and by Saturday evening they've unpacked in their new house and are sitting having their first family dinner around their new dinner table. Sumo’s already reclaimed his old dog bed that Connor placed in a comfortable corner of the living room, and Cole's giddy with excitement from decorating his own room exactly how he wanted it (with some helpful nudges in the right direction to prevent some potential disasters).

Connor's been all smiles for the last month, eagerly setting up their house in anticipation of the move, as Hank tied up loose ends in Detroit. He's taken three weeks off to focus on getting them all settled, and giving the Andersons a tour of their new town. His blatant excitement is infectious, and it dissolves the last ugly strands of doubts and apprehension lurking in the dark corners of Hank's mind. _He's too young for you_ , _he doesn't want this kind of commitment_ is all drowned out by the overwhelming truth of the situation; Connor is happy, with him and Cole. Connor _chose_ them, and loves them. And that is more than enough.

 

xXx

 

“Hey,” a soft voice whispers in Hank's ear, breath hot and ticklish against his skin. Grumbling, Hank swats at whatever is making that noise, and is confused when all he’s met with is empty air and a quiet laughter. Blinking awake, he tries to focus his bleary eyes, but it's pitch fucking black.

“Hank,” the voice is back, but this time Hank registers several things; the rustling of sheets, the weight of a body moving behind him, and the familiar voice of Connor. He must've rolled out of the way when Hank tried to swat him into silence.

“Connor, baby, I love you but it's the fucking _dead of night_ ,” Hank groans, voice raspy from sleep and eyes already drooping. He sighs as Connor presses in close against his back, nuzzling into his neck and kissing it gently.

“M’sorry, Hank,” Connor sighs, sounding genuinely regretful, and that's enough to wake Hank up quite efficiently. “Quantico called. I’ve been called into a briefing; we’ve caught a case in Kentucky. I need to grab my go-bag and leave in thirty.”

It's Connor's first case since his leave ran out, and it's got Hank's heart beating quicker in his chest. Realistically, it's no different from the many cases Connor's been off to before, but it's different now, somehow.

Hank rolls over, turns on the bedside lamp, and sits up with his back against their headboard to look down to where Connor lies propped up on one elbow, fully dressed already.

“Well shit,” Hank sighs, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He makes an impatient gesture for Connor to come closer, grumbling a quiet, “C’mere.”

Connor scrambles up on his knees and straddles Hank’s lap with a weak noise. He kisses him before Hank can comment on it, slipping his arms around Hank's neck and holding on. Hank groans, hands gripping Connor's hips tightly, and slips his tongue into Connor's eager mouth. He almost forgets why they're awake in the middle of the night, making out like teenagers, with Connor dressed and Hank in nothing but his boxers.

When Hank breaks away to kiss down Connor's neck, tracing moles and freckles with his tongue, Connor groans miserably and reluctantly reminds him.

“I have to go, Hank,” Connor says with his head thrown back, slightly breathless, and despite his words Hank can feel him gyrating his hips in small, jerky movements; ass moving against Hank's groin. It's making Hank's blood heat up, travelling south, and he bites hard at the straining tendon of Connor's neck in retaliation. Connor's breath hitches on a choked-out moan, as his hips jerk violently forward. Hank feels how hard he is, those tight fucking pants straining as Connor grinds his erection against Hank's stomach.

“Yeah, in thirty minutes,” Hank growls, already unzipping Connor's pants and pulling out his cock. “Now let me lie down and we'll 69 it. Gonna have to be quick, 'cause you aren't leaving this fucking bed without a proper damn good bye, baby.”

Connor swears quietly under his breath, scrambling out of the way as Hank scootches down until he's flat on his back. He takes a moment to pull down his boxers, kicking them off, before Connor's straddling his face and burying his own face in Hank's crotch.

Hank groans, because Connor doesn't waste any time, swallowing his dick down in one go and moaning happily around it. Above him, Hank grabs Connor's prettily flushed erection and gives it a few teasing strokes before guiding it down to his lips. He kisses the tip, sucking it in, and takes a hold of Connor's hips to help guide him into a rhythm. Hank's neck can't handle any proper action in this position, so he encourages Connor to fuck his mouth, even as his clever little boy is doing his best to shove Hank as far down his throat as he can go.

It's fucking amazing; Connor’s salty taste on his tongue, the smell of his musk and the lingering scent of the shower they had before bed. All the while his cock is surrounded by wet heat, the tightness of Connor's throat a maddening pressure around the sensitive head as he swallows around him. How Connor possesses the coordination to blow him this good with his dick fucking shallowly into Hank's mouth, he has no idea. But Hank's very conscious of their time-limit, and so wastes little time in hurrying things along. He plays with Connor’s balls, presses roughly at his taint through those tight pants of his, and allows himself to let loose.

He comes with a deep groan, momentarily choking on Connor's dick as he loses concentration. Connor swallows around him, milking him with careful, maddening suction as he softens slowly. Connor's slipped out of his mouth to allow him to catch his breath, but with a growl, Hank grabs his hips and brings him back; mouth eager to suck him down again.

“Ah, _daddy,_ ” Connor gasps, having released Hank's sated cock, resting his forehead against Hank's thigh. His hips starts to move in earnest now, no longer splitting his attention, and it doesn't take long before he blows his load with a drawn-out whine that has Hank's dick twitching in interest.

Salty and thick, Hank swallows as best he can, savoring the taste of his lover on his tongue. He keeps hold of Connor's hips, preventing him from moving unless he _really_ wants to, and sucks gently on his spent cock for long enough to make Connor sobs and twitch from the overstimulation. Only when those sobs turn into high-pitched, desperate whines does Hank release him, smacking his lips obnoxiously.

Connor collapses to the side, lying feet to head next to Hank, and rolls over to his back to pant heavily at the ceiling. Hank sits up and admires him; lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed, his hair a mess and his wet cock poking limp through his opened trousers. Fuck, but he wishes he didn't have to leave.

“I gotta go,” Connor groans, hiding his face behind his hands. Hank chuckles, reaching over to gently tuck his boy away, zipping him up and patting him gently on his belly.

“I know baby,” Hank sighs. “I’ll say bye to Cole for you in the morning, ok? Now get going. Tell them traffic was a bitch or something.”

Connor sits up, and leans in for a last kiss. “Thanks.”

Hank presses a thumb against the lower lip of Connor's swollen mouth, smirking. “You might wanna pop a few breath mints on the way, baby. You taste _and_ smell like daddy's cock.”

Connor turns bright red and groans, scrambling off the bed to the sound of Hank's laughter.

“ _Bye_ Hank,” Connor calls over his shoulder, picking up his go-bag from where he’s evidently dumped it by the door to their bedroom. Hank merely grunts and collapses back onto the bed, starfishes out on his back, and staring blankly at the ceiling as he hears Connor move down the stairs and eventually, out of their house. The sound of his car leaving, finally has Hank rolling over into his side, reaching for his phone of the bedside table.

 

[Me 01:44:] _I love you doofus. Let me know when you’ve landed._

 

It takes roughly thirty minutes for a reply, because Connor is a responsible driver and won't have risked texting while driving. Most likely he’s just parked his car and is making his way into the BAU headquarters at the FBI Academy.

 

[RoboCop 02:21:] _I love you too, Lieutenant. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Hopefully I'll catch Cole before school, if not, tell him I love him too._

[Me 02:22:] _Promise. Now be good._

[RoboCop 02:22:] _Always, daddy._

_  
_

Hank curses, and throws his phone onto Connor's side of the bed before stealing his huge-ass, expensive pillow to bury his face in (“It's ergonomic, Hank. If only you would let me buy you one as well. It would help relieve your neck pain.”). He breathes in the warm scent of his boy, musky but clean, and sighs miserably. He's going to have to force himself back to sleep if he’s gonna get himself up at 6:30.

He hopes Connor's case won't drag on for too long, or involve too much danger. With the crazy-ass, sick fucks his team deals with, though, that's usually a fucking toss-up.

And hour later, he's finally asleep, but it's a restless one.

 

xXx

 

Hank's settled in quite well in the PWCPD. He gets recognized by a few, but they don't make a big deal out of it and merely nods their heads at him with respect. He's still the old new guy, but he's had a chance already to show off his experience and the guys seem to appreciate it. It's actually quite refreshing, to start anew. He’s dreading making such a huge change at his age, switching workplace and potentially having to rebuild everything all over again, but he's got a clean slate here. Kinda.

His records aren't _all_ sealed or anything, and his face has been on national news a few times over the years, but there are no personal history with his new coworkers. He's not known as the grumpy, antisocial hardass that went after some of his own, nevermind that it was crooked cops that deserved more than they actually got.

Well, he's still a bit grumpy at times, and not the most social of butterflies, and he does take his job seriously. But he's got good reason for being in a bad mood now; his partner is off hunting psychopaths in another State, while Hank's sitting here twiddling his fucking thumbs. And while he's not always the life of the party, he’s taken to making more smalltalk than he ever felt comfortable with back in Detroit. And so far, his work ethic has been positively received. So, all in all, it's been a success.

“How's the kid?” Detective Morris wonders over coffee in the break room that afternoon. She's got a good head on her, with a good sense of humour. Hank had instantly taken a liking for her, glad she was on his team.

“Bummed out that my partner didn't wake him up at ass o’clock in the morning to say goodbye. Thank God he caught him on the phone this morning, or I’d had to deal with a cranky eleven-year old on barely three hours of sleep,” Hank grumbles good-naturedly, though he really would've found himself somewhere to cry exhausted tears if Cole had chosen this morning to have a tantrum. Morris chuckles.

“Must suck to have to travel on such short notice, and never knowing how long they'll be gone  for,” she says as she sips her coffee, leaning against the counter. Hank grimaces at the curious look on her face.

“Yeah, well, hopefully it won't drag out for too long,” Hank mutters, draining his cup and getting ready to go back to work. This conversation could turn too personal a bit too quickly for his liking. He's talked quite a lot about his son, but only ever mentioned Connor's name and that he's away a lot for his work. The office gossip seem to be that Connor's some kind of successful middle-aged businessman, travelling around on his private jet. Well, he _is_ travelling around on a private jet, only it’s actually the property of the FBI. Eh, details.

Hank leaves Morris to enjoy her coffee to get back to his desk and continue working through some paperwork. He's taken over the supervision of Narcotics, and has to coordinate with the sergeants and detectives that are now working under him. It's a lot of personnel and case files to acquaint himself with, as well as learning the ins and outs of this department. It's enough to occupy him for the rest of the day, dispatching a few Detectives and Officers to investigate on leads for two ongoing cases.   

Finally it's time to clock out, and Hank checks his phone as soon as he leaves. Their new nanny has picked up Cole from school, and is making dinner. He calls him up to confirm he’ll be home at the time he’d given him, and says a quick hello to Cole. It isn’t too far a drive home from the station, and when he gets home he’s greeted by the smell of chili and Cole's excited chatter.

“Pops! Connor texted me, he's gonna FaceTime us at 20:00!”

Luke, their nanny, grins from where he's washing his hands. “He's quite excited about it, couldn't stop talking about it in the car.”

Hank pulls his son into a hug and kisses his head, before pushing him towards the table that is already set up. “Thanks for everything, Luke. Same time tomorrow, ok?”

The young man nods, drying his hands off and giving Cole a fist-bump before leaving. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Anderson, Cole.”

“Bye!” both Andersons call out as they fill their plates with food, wasting little time to dig in.

“So Connor's been texting you today?” Hank prompts in-between bites. Cole nods excitedly.

“Yupp! Well, only the once, to tell me he's gonna call,” Cole explains. “He's busy chasing the bad guy, and I said I didn't want him to be distracted, but he told me it was fine. Did he text you too?”

“Yeah, just to give me an update on how he’s doing. It's gonna be good to see his goofy face though,” Hank says with a grin, causing Cole to roll his eyes.

“Poooops, he doesn't have a goofy face,” he sighs as if Hank's a particularly thick kind of stupid. “You _like_ his face, I already _know_ that.”

“Oh yeah?” Hank challenges him, amused by the attitude. “How figure?”

Narrowing his eyes at Hank, Cole looks like he can't believe how slow he’s being. Hank's wishes he had his phone out to snap a picture, this shit is hilarious.

“Why else would you _kiss it_ so much if you don't like it? Sophia says you don't kiss things or people you don't like,” Cole reasons matter-of-factly, causing Hank to choke on the ship of water he had just been attempting to swallow.

Couching, Hank's wheezes, “Well, I can't argue against that. Just...just go back to your room if you see us kissing anything other than our faces, alright? Unless it's an emergency.”

Cole grimaces. “Noted.”

Jesus fucking Christ, his kid is too much like himself for anyone's good, but now he's started talking like Connor too. What a nightmare.

 

xXx

 

 _“Hello Cole, Hank,”_ Connor's voice greets them from the tablet Cole’s holding. His face is smiling up at them, pretty brown eyes, moles and charming dimples in high definition on a 10-inch screen. His hair looks messy, it's usual styled look much wilder with his curls product-free from a recent shower. Hank aches for him; his hands itch to touch his hair, his skin. Trace that smile and kiss it into submission.

“Hi Connor! I got to do science with Sophia today, she's _really_ smart. Pops says you could help me with our project when you get back. You're really good with this stuff, you’ll help, right? I kinda already told Sophia you were gonna, she thinks it's _so cool_ that you're an FBI agent and she was really nervous to meet you but I said you’re the best and I bet she'd like you, so Pops’ said it's okay to have her over and he's talked to her mom ab---mmpphhh!”

Hank's got his hand over Cole's mouth, stemming the flow of nervously excited babble, as he takes the tablet and props it up on the kitchen table where they sit. “Alright kiddo, take a breath will ya? We get it, Sophia's the best thing since sliced bread. Connor's gonna be your wingman, don't sweat it.”

 _“Hank, stop smothering your son, I’m quite fond of him. And Cole, of course I’ll help. She sounds like a very nice friend and I’ll be happy to meet her. And don't---”_ Connor's voice is interrupted by Hank's loud yelp and he yanks his hand away from Cole's surprisingly sharp teeth.

 _“---bite your father’s hand,_ ” he finishes, sighing and pinching his nose. Hank's too busy giving a laughing Cole a noogie to notice.

“Brat! Just for that, I’ll sneak up tonight and open your bedroom door so Sumo can sneak in and cover your whole room in dog hairs,” Hank declares, letting Cole wiggle free.

“Pops likes your face, Connor! If he calls it goofy, he’s _lying,”_ Cole declares as if delivering the winning blow. Connor's laughing quietly in the background, and Hank throws him a mock-glare.

“Alright, alright, say your goodnights you two,” he urges Cole. “Pops gotta be boring and adult with Connor for a while.”

“Fine,” Cole sighs, waving at the tablet where Connor smiles and waves back. “Goodnight Connor! Love you!”

 _“I love you too, Cole. I’ll talk to you soon again, okay?”_ Connor says, and Cole’s off to his room to play some video games before bed. Alone in the kitchen, Hank picks the tablet up and goes to their bedroom upstairs.

 _“Looking for some privacy, Hank?”_ Connor wonders with an amused smirk as he’s carried off, and Hank can't help but snort.

“You look dead on your feet. You’ve been working ever since you got called in and now you’ve taken time out of the few hours you get to sleep to call us. I'm gonna stare at your face without the kid around and listen to your voice for a bit, then it's off to bed for you,” Hank declares, shutting the bedroom door behind him and collapsing onto their bed that remains unmade from this morning. He lies on his back, one hand holding up the tablet so he can look up at Connor's face.

Connor pouts, knowing full well how pretty it makes him look. _“I had hoped for something more, especially with you in our bed. Are you really going to deprive me of it, when I can't be there with you? I'm in a_ motel _, daddy, it's not fair.”_

Hank groans and hides his face behind his arm, cursing. “For fuck’s sake, baby, you're gonna kill me.”

 _“Mm, no daddy, I just want you to talk to me,”_ Connor hums, the sound of fabric rusting causing Hank to look up again.

He's shrugged out of his white button-up and placed his phone on the nightstand, framing himself lying on his side facing the selfie camera. The shot only shows his head down to his chest, and his one hand is clearly out of frame somewhere southward, making very specific motions.

“Fuck, baby, jerking off while on a case? Tsk, it's only been eighteen hours since you had my cock in your mouth while I sucked you off,” Hank says with a dark voice, rolling over to place the tablet propped up on his own nightstand as well. He wants his hands free for this too, because his dick is already chubbing up.

 _“Can't get enough of you daddy,”_ Connor groans, pinching a nipple with his free hand as his other arm flexes with each jerk to his dick.

“I betcha can't,” Hank growls, kicking of his pants and reaching into his boxers for his cock. A few pulls and it's fully erect, the pretty view of Connor's flushed face staring back at him through the screen. “God, you're such a slut for my cock, Connor. Betcha dying to sit on it, aren't you?”

Hank pauses to bring his hand up, spitting on his palm and making Connor groan, before putting it back on himself. Much smoother, and it allows him to pick up the speed; rubbing his palm over the head on each pass up, squeezing slightly at the base on passing down. He stares at Connor's open mouth, his pink tongue licking full lips, panting and aroused with nothing to suck on.

“Put two fingers in your mouth, baby, and suck. I know you want to. You need some weight to push down on that pretty little tongue of yours, don't you?” Hank demands, reaching down to tug lightly at his own balls, feeling his stomach clench in desire as Connor complies eagerly.

He pushes pointer and index finger into his mouth, moaning, and makes a sloppy, loud show of fellating them. Christ, the saliva glistens in the shitty light of the motel room Connor's in, and Hank curses the distance between them. Hank jerks off faster, precum leaking from his slit and lubing him to replace the spit that's drying up. He gets very wet, something that fascinates Connor and has resulted in him licking and sucking solely on the sensitive tip of Hank's cock for _ages_ as he explores just how much he can make it weep. No doubt he’s imagining that, because he's making a mess of his fingers in his mouth, drooling while his other hand is busy between his thighs.

“When you get back, baby, I’m gonna eat you out until you cry. Gonna lick and suck at your hole until it's red and hot to the touch, plumped up and so _fucking_ sensitive. Gonna tie your wrists to the headboard so you can't touch that pretty little dick as you're doing now. You're gonna be begging me to come, and you know what?” Hank pants as he feels his balls drawn up, the knot of arousal tightening in his stomach. Connor whines, shaking his head helplessly, unable to talk around his fingers and unwilling to take them out.

“You get to choose now, Connor. Do you come now, tonight, by your own hand or do you want till you get back home and come fucking _speared_ on my cock?”

Connor let's out a broken, desperate wail and he tenses up and immediately pulls his hand away from his dick, grasping frantically at the pillow his head’s resting on as he continues to suck on his fingers to pacify himself.

The sight and realization of what Connor had chosen without thought or hesitation sends a wave of heat through Hank's cock and suddenly he’s coming, moaning Connor's name and thanking whoever had thought to soundproof the master bedroom of this house. His dick twitches in his hand as he spends himself on the sheets, dripping down on his hand, throbbing and sensitive and spent.

Connor's sucking loudly at his fingers, a constant whine escaping his throat, his pretty eyes leaking tears that streak down his cheeks, over his nose, and he looks absolutely _wrecked._ Flushed a pretty red from the tip of his ears, the bridge of his nose, down his throat and spreading across his chest. His hair a tangle of curls, his hands buried in the pillow and his mouth respectively. His body is trembling, shaking with each breath, and he must be so fucking close to coming it must _hurt._

“There you go,” Hank soothes, wiping his hand off on already soiled sheets before he reaches out for the tablet to bring it closer. He keeps his voice low, full of warmth and affection, feeling proud and happy. “Such a good boy, baby. You’re doing so good, now breathe for me. I'm gonna need you to take your fingers outta that pretty mouth, okay baby boy? Breathe, nice and easy, there you go. Good boy. C’mon, you're doing great, look at you. So pretty, breathing for me. You didn't come, did you baby?”

Connor relaxes more with each praise, each sweet word, until he's breathing steadily and blinking away the last of his tears.

 _“No daddy, I didn't come. I'm still so hard for you, but I wanna be good,”_ Connor says with a shaky voice, still vulnerable, and Hank shushes him gently.

“You’re already good, baby. You're doing to well. I'm gonna be here, alright? Take your time. Take your phone with you to the bathroom when you feel you can stand up, alright? I wanna be with you as you clean up, ok?” Hank continues, doing his best with what he has, being so far away. Connor nods, docile and relaxed, slowly reaching out for his phone and getting up. The image gets a bit shaky after that, but it's clear he’s stumbling his way to the bathroom.

The view isn't the best, but Hank murmurs encouragement and praise as Connor blows his nose and cleans his face. He requires slightly more encouragement to gently wipe off his still-hard dick, whimpering and squirming as he fights the stimulation, but Hank doesn't stop talking until he's verbally guided his boy back into bed and under the covers.

 _“I really needed that,”_ Connor confesses later, several minutes having gone by in silence as they've simply lied staring at each other and listening to the other  breathe. _“This case is tough, Hank. Kids are involved. I needed to get out of my head for a while, get it back on straight. Thank you, daddy.”_

Hank sighs, reaching out to touch the screen and Connor's image on it, even though he knows that does nothing. “I'm sorry, baby. I’ll do what I can for you. You're gonna catch that freak. You're the best, you know? You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Connor smiles, eyes drooping, looking three seconds away from simply passing out. He's crashing.

 _“Mhmm,”_ Connor sighs, eyes closed now, and Hank doubts he’s actually noticed it.

“Go to sleep. I’ll stay online for a bit before I hang up for you,” Hank assures him softly. “I love you baby.”

 _“Love you too, daddy_ ,” Connor mumbles, switching off like someone just pushed his standby button. Hank smiles, takes the tablet with him as he rolls over to Connor's (spunk-free) side of the bed. He shrugs out of his shirt until he's left in just undershirt and boxers, and settles in for a wait. He’ll watch over Connor for a while, then he’ll have to head to the ensuite bathroom for a shower and some fresh boxers and shirt to sleep in. Then it’s brushing his teeth and checking in on Cole to make sure he's observed his bedtime, and isn't still up playing games.

He can't wait for Connor to get home.

 

xXx

 

It takes five days before Connor's car can be heard pulling up in the driveway. It's late Friday night, 23:20 to be exact, and Hank promised Cole he could stay up to greet Connor if _he_ promised to go straight to bed afterwards. They’d spent a nice evening together watching movies and eating popcorn to distract themselves from Connor's impending arrival. It hard worked to an extent, but they're both impatient enough to jump off the couch when Sumo’s excited _boofs_ alert them to the fact that a familiar car has just approached their house. Sumo's first to the door, followed closely by Cole. Hank tags behind only to at least _attempt_ to curb his excitement and preserve his dignity.

Oh who’s he kidding, he’s been pining away like a character in a fairytale all week, and he's just spent several hours crying over animated movies with his son wearing matching Star Trek PJs that Connor got them last Christmas. There is no such thing as dignity in this house, clearly.

“Hello, I’m ho---” Connor begins to call out as he opens the door, only to be bowled over by a slobbering Saint Bernards and a only slightly less messy eleven-year old child.

“Ouf!” he huffs in surprise, knocked down on his ass and arms full of his biggest admirers. Well, one’s missing, but Hank figures he's gonna be crushing his gorgeous partner under his weight soon enough, no kids or dogs allowed.

“Alright alright guys, let him breathe. Let's get him inside before his butt freezes to the ground, shall we?” Hank breaks it all up, pulling Sumo off by his collar and Cole by the back of his shirt. Connor grins up at him from where he's sprawled, and Hank's heart skips a beat. Fuck, he's beautiful.

Cole is chattering away, overtired but excited, as Sumo noses at Connor's legs while the man stands and comes inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Hey,” Connor greets Hank quietly, stepping up to wrap his arms around his waist and tilting his head up for a kiss. Hank takes the invitation, kissing him slow and deep, eyes closed as he savours the taste of him.

Cole’s exasperated groan breaks them apart, Connor laughing as Hank rolls his eyes.

“Sorry, Cole,” Connor says, walking up to him and kissing his forehead. “I missed my Anderson boys. Have you had a good day? Did you get to watch all the movies you wanted to tonight? There were quite a few in your list, if I recall.”

“Yeah, we watched _all_ of them. Pops got off work early, so he could bring me home directly from school. He made a schedule and everything, so we could watch one movie then order pizza and eat, then watch another one before talking Sumo for a walk, _in our PJs_ , and then we watched another one! He says it's better to do some stuff in-between so you don't get so tired and it worked! I’ve never watched so many movies at once, it was so cool!”

Hank listens to them talk for a while, allowing the moment to stretch out. It's clear that Connor's missed them all, listening attentively to Cole's excited talk as he settles down on the couch with him, scratching Sumo behind the ears and sneaking fond looks Hank's way. But Cole starts flagging quite soon, and Connor notice right away.

“Let's get you to bed,” he says, standing up and hauling Cole up into his arms. Cole yawns, resting his head on Connor's shoulder, and nods. Hank snorts. Figures. The kid threw a damn tantrum last night over his bedtime, now he's sweet as a lamb.

Petting Sumo as he walks past, Hank follows Connor into Cole's bedroom. He's not surprised that Cole's blacked out during the shirt trip there, asleep in Connor's arms and easily put to bed. Connor tucks him in, kisses his cheek and makes room for Hank to do the same. They close the door behind them as they leave, silently agreeing to take care of the mess in the living room as well as Connor's discarded go-to bag for tomorrow. For now, they make their way up the stairs to their own bedroom for a proper welcome home.

There's something Hank promised him, after all.

 

xXx


	2. BONUS SCENE: Proper Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Turn around baby,” Hank urges him, sitting up and helping Connor roll over onto his stomach. With hands on his hips, Hank lifts Connor up until he's on his knees with his shoulders and cheek pressed into the pillow he’s hugged to his chest. “Good boy, that's perfect. You remember what I promised, don't you? What did I say, baby boy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF.
> 
> HAVE SOME MORE FILTH.
> 
> //EDIT// OH GOD THERE ARE SO MANY TYPOS I'M SO SORRY. I'll go back and fix what I can later omg sorry

xXx

 

Connor's exhausted, despite having caught a quick nap on the flight back home. It's been a taxing five days, though he'd made sure to text or call back home every night he could, needing to ground himself by reminding him what he had waiting for him; Hank, and Cole, and Sumo. His own small, but infinitely precious, family of choice.

The ride home from the airport feels twice as long as it is, but when he finally arrives at their driveway he finds himself relaxing the tense set of his shoulders for the first time in days. The lights are on, and Connor knows from Cole's excited message from earlier today that Hank's allowed Cole to stay up to welcome him home. Connor smiles to himself, grabbing his go-bag and getting out of the car. His chest feels warm, because he knows Hank did that as much for Connor's sake as for Cole's. Besides, it’s a Friday night, so they're all going to sleep in tomorrow anyway, bar any emergencies.

Humming happily, Connor tosses his keys in the air and deftly catches them, feeling excitement overtake exhaustion. He unlocks the door, opening it, and starts to call out for his family when he's promptly bowled over by several pounds of fur and a skinny little human.

He lands on his ass with a pained huff, but he's already got his arms open to hug his attackers close, and press kisses to cheeks and heads.

Hank finally gets him free, pulling Cole and Sumo off of him with ease. The man is the burly type of strong, body broad everywhere and with a belly, and Connor can't help but admire the way his arms flex. Shaking his head, he stands up and gets inside, locking the door behind him.

“Hey,” Connor finally greets Hank, face to face, walking up to him to wrap his arms around his waist, hugging himself close and melting into the firm belly pressing into his own flat one, and feeling that muscular, broad chest rise and fall with each breath.

On instinct, with little thought, Connor begs for a kiss by tilting his head just so, parting his lips in an open invitation. Hank doesn't hesitate, slipping his tongue inside and making Connor's knees go weak. He never feels as vulnerable and small as when he's in Hank's arms, but there's also nowhere else he feels as safe. He almost loses himself entirely to the soft, wet feel of Hank's mouth, his spicy scent in Connor's nose, and the warm, steady grip of his embrace.

Cole's exasperated groan works like a bucket of cold water, and Connor steps back with a sheepish grin and a blush on his cheeks. Cole looks at him as if betrayed, and Connor hurries over.

“Sorry Cole,” he says, leaning down to press an affectionate peck to the kid’s forehead. He hadn't meant to neglect him, but Hank has a way of capturing all of his attention when he wants to. “I missed my Anderson boys. Have you had a good day? Did you get to watch all the movies you wanted to tonight? There were quite a few on your list, if I recall.”

Cole's talking a mile a minute the moment Connor prompts him, and they both sit down on the couch to savour the last few moments before Hank sends the kid off to bed. Connor keeps a close eye, knowing it's just a matter of time before Cole crashes and burns, and at the first sign he takes action.

Having put Cole to bed with no fuss, Connor follows Hank upstairs to their bedroom with an excited buzz of anticipation making his limbs feel jittery. After that first call home - the only time they’d managed to have enough privacy to get off - Connor's been on edge. He didn't get to come - well, no, more correctly; he chose not to, at the time, because he’d gotten a much better offer.

 

> _“You get to choose now, Connor. Do you come now, tonight, by your own hand or do you wait till you get back home and come fucking speared on my cock?”_

Now he's back, Hank pulling him into the bedroom and pushing him up against the door. Connor hitches a leg up to Hank's hip, letting him slot in place between his legs until their crotches are pressed together. He savours the feel of Hank's heavy frame pinning him effortlessly in place, running his hands up Hank's sides and slipping them beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

Hank's skin is warm, and Connor traces around to his belly, running fingers through a thick, bushy happy trail that connects to a wonderfully furry chest. Hank growls, and grabs a hold of Connor's uplifted thigh while his other hand buries into his hair, tugging him into a biting kiss and has him shivering and melting into Hank's steady presence.

He moans happily, rucking Hank's shirt up to his pits in his efforts to grabs at his pecs, thumbs brushing over perky nipples. It makes Hank's hips jerk forward, grinding their growing erections together, which causes sparks to shoot up Connor's spine. He arches away from the door, pushing hard into the solid wall that is Hank, and whimpers when that gets him nowhere.

With a growl, Hank bites at Connor's lips, sucking at them, making them swell up and throb lightly as blood rushes to them. He starts trailing his kisses down Connor's jawline, making him tip his head back in response, gasping Hank's name.

“I missed you, daddy,” Connor continues, taking his nails down Hank's chest, gasping when the sting to his nipples causes Hank to thrust against him _hard,_ making his body slam into the door with a _thunk._ He's barely recovered before Hank's hitches his thigh higher up, grabbing his other leg too, and with a heave and a grunt he’s got Connor hoisted up clinging to him with arms and legs. Putting steadying hands under Connor's ass, Hank pulls them away from the door and walks them over to the bed, where he dumps Connor with a smirk.

Connor bounces, wishing he could join in on Hank's good humour, but he's too turned on by the easy way Hank's pushing him around. Instead, he eagerly parts his legs, throws his arms up above his head to grip the headboard, and arches his back up with a moan; a clear, eager invitation.

“Shit, look at you baby,” Hank swears, standing by the end of the bed, hurriedly dragging his shirt over his head and pulling pants and boxers off in one go. Connor's mouth goes slack, watching Hank's naked body before him; slightly tan skin, burly muscles and soft spots he wants to put his teeth to. And his _cock,_ God, Connor can't help but lick his lips and whimper, remembering the taste of it, the heavy weight of it. It's thick, but not too long; a blunt and heavy dick that can't quite hold up its own weight, standing to attention almost straight ahead, drooping slightly but flushed red and weeping copious amounts of precum. It's nestled in a moderately trimmed bush of graying pubes, and Connor wants to bury his nose in it, feel that cock stretch his throat and he's surrounded by nothing but Hank; taste, smell, sight…

He's distracted by the violent tugs at his pants, jerking out of his impromptu daydream to find Hank impatiently trying to undress him, having crawled up on the bed to stand on his knees. Hurrying to help, Connor unzips his fly and starts unbuttoning his shirt, lifting his hips to get his pants off more easily. It doesn't take long until he's as naked as Hank, curling his toes into the sheets and spreading his legs wide, looking up hopefully at the man observing him.

“Eager, aren't you, baby?” Hank smirks, taking hold of his on cock and lazily tugging at it, causing more precum to trickle from his slit. Connor swallows, mouth watering, and he can't look away from the sight. “Look at you drooling, fuck, you're such a little slut for daddy’s cock, aren't you?”

“Yes daddy, yes I am,” Connor gasps, running his hands down his own chest and playing with his nipples, knowing his own throbbing dick is out of question. “You promised me, daddy, you said…”

Connor trails off, biting his tender lip, and pinches his nipples with a moan. Hank tsks, taking his hand off his cock and shuffling forward to kneel between Connor's legs. He puts his large, calloused hands on Connor's trembling inner thighs and squeezes, running them up and down and causing Connor to shiver at the feel of them.

“Oh I know baby,” Hank murmurs, leaning down to press kisses to the sharp v of Connor's hip bones, trailing over to dip his tongue into Connor's belly button. His scruffy chin scrapes against the head of Connor's dick, which lies hard and weeping on his stomach, and it's making Connor's hips twitch in aborted thrusts; seeking _more._

“Turn around baby,” Hank urges him, sitting up and helping Connor roll over onto his stomach. With hands on his hips, Hank lifts Connor up until he's on his knees with his shoulders and cheek pressed into the pillow he’s hugged to his chest. “Good boy, that's perfect. You remember what I promised, don't you? What did I say, baby boy?”

“You said you'd eat me out, daddy,” Connor replies, voice breathy with anticipation. “You’d tie me up and make me beg for it.”

“That's right,” Hank hums with approval, running his hands down Connor's curved back. “Get your hands up by the headboard baby, I’m gonna get the restraints.”

The bed dips as Hank leaves it and Connor swallows a whine of protest, doing as he's told and waiting as patiently as he can while listening to Hank moving around behind him. He's opening their closet and getting their toybox out, rustling around for a bit before returning.

He gets up on the bed again, reaching over and down to grab one wrist at a time; fastening a leather cuff on each, lined with buttery soft faux fur. He fastens a leather strap to one cuff and threads it through the heavy bars of the headboard to lock it on the remaining cuff, effectively restraining Connor's hands with enough give to change positions and still be comfortable. Connor tests it out, jerking at them just to feel trapped, and moans appreciatively when it's clear he's getting nowhere.

“Tell me your colors, baby,” Hank demands as he settles in behind him, running hands up and down the back of Connor's spread thighs.

“Red for full stop, yellow for slow down and reassess, green for an all clear,” Connor replies immediately, knowing it by heart, and is rewarded with two kisses to the dimples on his lower back.

“Good boy,” Hank praises him, that familiar warmth spreading throughout Connor every time he hears those words, and he barely has time to relax before Hank's hands turn from caressing to delivering a startling spank. Connor yelps, and Hank chuckles.

“I'm gonna eat you out, baby, but first I want some color on these lovely cheeks of yours,” Hank hums, patting Connor's ass lightly. “No need to count. I’ll stop when I'm satisfied. Make as much noise as you need to though, because that might take a while.”

Connor whimpers, but nods his assent, dick twitching where it hangs between his legs. He's going to have a difficult time making it through, if Hank's going to spank him _and_ rim him before even contemplating to finally fuck him.

The second spank is just as unexpected as the first had been, but this time Hank doesn't stop. He starts out gentle but firm, warming him up, switching sides and spots but keeping to the fleshy parts; Connor's buttocks, and the back of his thighs. Steadily, the strength increases, until his ass throbs with heat and tingles with every solid _smack_.

Connor whimpers, struggling to keep his position, wanting desperately to give outlet to the building restlessness of his desire. But he keeps as still as he can, hips twitching and thighs trembling, until the buzzing fire left by Hank's hands turn sharp and shocking. Connor cries out, his choked moans and gasps turning into something unrestrained.

Then, suddenly, it stops.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Hank's voice can be heard, raspy and out of breath, over the pounding in Connor's ears. Connor gasps, clenching his ass and wincing at the sharp sting that travels through him.

Hank's hands cup his flaming cheeks, causing him to squirm, even the most gentle of caresses lighting his nerves on fire. It feels amazing; his dick throbbing in time to the heated flesh of his backside. He feels Hank part him, baring his hole, and it sends a shiver up his spine.

“This, this is just what I wanted,” Hank murmurs, thumbs caressing his crack. “Your pretty pale ass bright red, each little round cheek framing that hole of yours so nicely.”

“Yes, daddy,” Connor moans, tugging lightly at the cuffs keeping his hands in place.

“And you know what, baby boy? I bet my whiskers are gonna feel so good rubbing against your sensitive little butt, hmm?” he continues, leaning down to drag his chin over Connor's red skin. Connor yelps, and twitches; a pulse of precum trickles out of his slit, adding to the pool on the sheets beneath him.

“Mm, you smell nice and clean, baby,” Hank mutters in approval, breath almost cool against the heat of Connor's skin, crouched down as he is behind him. “Have you been good? Cleaned yourself up for daddy before coming home?”

Connor nods frantically, but shouts out when he gets a warning bite for his troubles.

“Use your words, baby,” Hank chides him, and Connor flushes in slight shame.

“Yes daddy, I did,” he confirms, voice shaky and slightly embarrassed. He knows Hank likes to be a part of the process, preparing Connor for taking his dick or mouth, or both, and it used to be almost unbearably embarrassing. Dirty and awkward, it'd still gotten Connor hard, that slight bite of shame a thrill that Hank didn't hesitate to tease out of him.

“I'm sorry I missed it, baby,” Hank sighs, and that's the only warning Connor gets before a strong, wet tongue licks along his whole crack, tip catching tauntingly as his hole for the briefest of moment. Connor squeals, embarrassingly, and his whole body jerks at the feeling of a hot, wet tongue over his hole and scratchy, stinging beard on hyper-sensitive skin. The hands on his cheeks flex, fingers digging into flesh, keeping him in place as he squirms and pulls at his restraints.

“Oh _god_ , daddy,” Connor sobs as Hank starts to circle the tip of his tongue around the rim of his hole, teasing, and it's _torture_. He hasn't even gotten started, and the thought makes Connor shudder in anticipation. Hank hums against him, pushing his tongue inside as he uses his thumbs to gently massage on either side. It's slick and hot, and Connor can't help but clench around the small intrusion before he forces himself to relax. Hank closes his lips around him and sucks as a reward, tongue sliding in deep, and it fires off a shockwave of pleasure low in Connor's stomach and up his spine. His toes curls helplessly, and his cuffed hands grab a hold of the bars on the headboard in an attempt to ground himself.

He loses himself in the way Hank makes his body hum, panting and moaning as Hank nibbles and sucks at his loosening rim, working his tight muscles until they unclench and start to twitch, hungrily grasping for something _more_ to fill the empty feeling inside. He sobs incoherently when Hank hooks both thumbs into his hole and _pulls_ , stretching him out until he can feel Hank's heavy breath tease his insides before he pushes his tongue inside _deep._ Connor’s knees slip further apart, thighs weak as he almost collapses flat on the bed.

A warning growl from Hank, followed by a stinging bite at his increasingly sensitive rim has him tensing up; arching his ass up for more as he tries to lock his legs in place. His hole is throbbing, twitching, as his dick weeps desperately for attention; wet and hard and _aching._ Every nerve in his body feels alive, nipples hard and ass on fire, rubbed raw from beard burn on well-spanked skin. His balls are _aching_ , pulled up tight and full, ready for release. He barely notices that he’s started begging, though heaving breaths and weak, desperate noises.

“Daddy please, I need to come, please daddy,” he moans, voice high and wobbly. “I’ve been good, please, let me come!”

Hank continues, merciless, to lick and suck and slurp, the obscene noises adding to the intense arousal already drowning out any rational thought in Connor's mind. He begs until his voice is raw, voice rising in volume as each plea is ignored until Connor's voice _cracks_ and he muffles a _scream_ into his arm. He is _moments_ away from coming, but he doesn't want to; he _has_ to hold back, and he's _crying_ trying to hold it off and just as he feels a sinking feeling of dread, his cock twitching, everything _stops._

It's so shocking Connor’s whole body jerks in confusion; Hank's mouth is gone, his hand suddenly a tight, painful grips around the base of Connor's cock and balls. His orgasm is stopped just before the tipping point, leaving him tense and unsatisfied, bit _so relieved._ He sobs, burying his face into the pillow, as he shakes trying to process it all. Hank's deep, soothing voice washes over him; at first only noises but gradually it becomes words, as Connor's body relaxes.

“---good for me, you're doing so well, baby. Look at you, you're so perfect, my sweet boy. I'm gonna make you feel so good; you deserve it baby. You’ve taken it all so beautifully, just like I knew you would. Such a sweet boy, all pliant and good for me,” washes over him like a warm wave of praise and affection that leaves Connor limp and relaxed, floating in a cloud of euphoric pleasure. He registers Hank's large, warm hands stroking him; up his thighs, over his ass, down his back. Massaging, caressing; gentling him. Connor can't stay up anymore, he sinks tiredly down to lie flat on the bed, Hank guiding to a comfortable sprawl. His dick throbs and twitches, caught between his sweaty stomach and the messy sheets, and he groans weakly at the inadequate pressure.

“Color?” Hank asks him, sharp enough to slice through the cloudy haze of Connor's arousal.

“Green,” he replies immediately, voice hoarse but steady and sure. He sighs happily when he feels Hank lower himself down along his back, a heavy and familiar weight pressing him down into the bed. His thick, hot cock nestles teasingly along the crack of his ass, the wiry hairs of his pubes a slight sting against his tender skin. Connor can't help but arch into it; pressing his ass against Hank's cock and grinding, feeling it run along his sensitive hole. It sends sparks through him, reviving some of the desperate tension Hank had dispelled with gentle words and hands, and he finds himself mindlessly rocking his hips to push against Hank's cock and rub his own against the sheets. It doesn't take long until he's worked himself up, whimpering and mewling, trapped beneath Hank's large, broad body and soaking up his heat.

A hot breath teases his ear before Hank's voice, dark and thick with arousal, beings him back. “You little slut. Look at you, absolutely desperate for my cock, hmm? Want it inside you, baby? Want daddy to stretch your little hole out on his cock?”

Connor lets out a long, deep groan as his hips jerk violently at the words. “Yessss, daddy please,” he whines tugging at the cuffs, hearing the headboard rattle. Hank only chuckles, lifting his own hips and removing that wonderful cock from Connor's ass to the desperate noise of protest coming choked out of Connor's throat. It's choked off almost immediately by the feeling of two slick, thick fingers fucking into his hole without warning.

“Fuck!” Connor yelps, eyes wide. His hole is stretched from Hank's tongue and thumbs, but the rim is swollen and sensitive, and Hank's fingers are thick and rough. They don't pause, either, but stretched him open as they fuck into him at a hard, steady pace. He doesn't how or when Hank got hold of their lube, too far gone, but it doesn't take long before a third finger is inside and Connor's back to squirming and twitching, fighting against his need to just _come already._

“That's it, baby, don't come yet. It's on my cock or not at all, boy,” Hank growls in his ear, chest pressed against his back, before he ducks his head to kiss along Connor's sweaty neck; licking and biting and sucking.

“I’m ready daddy, please,” Connor gasps, panting and struggling for coherence. “Please, gimme your cock, oh god, _daddy.”_

The last word is a desperate whine, because Hank's removed his fingers and reached for his cock, pressing the tip to Connor's throbbing hole and rubbing it roughly, spreading lube and precume all over the sensitive rim, and Connor thinks he might expire entirely if Hank doesn't stop teasing him to the brink of insanity.

“You beg so prettily, baby,” Hank moans, pressing inside until the whole head of his cock is swallowed up. Connor clenches and unclenches, desperate to suck him in deeper, making Hank swear and fuck into him with one hard, rough thrust.

Connor cries out, throwing his head back and arching his back. Hank is so _thick,_ it's a blunt and heavy pressure inside him, stretching him out and rubbing against all the good spots effortlessly. Finally, _finally,_ Hank seems to be done with teasing him. He gets up, hands bracing on the small of Connor's back as they grab his waist, and plays his knees firmly on either side of Connor's hips; his feet pushing Connor's sprawled legs together to tighten up his ass further. It only amplifies the delicious pressure of Hank's cock inside of him, and Connor barely has time to catch his breath at the change of position before Hank starts a hard, forceful pace, fucking into Connor's ass and keeping him pinned with his weight.

“You can come anytime you want now, baby,” Hank pants, the world a glorious blessing. “Just know it won't stop me from fucking you until _I’m_ done.”

Connor chokes on a moan, convinced Hank's out to short-circuit him completely, because he changes his angle just _so_ and suddenly Connor's prostate is getting hit _hard_ and he barely has time to breathe in before a hoarse shout is fucked out of him. He comes hard, vision blurring and almost going black, cock rubbed raw between his stomach and the bed as it shoots off a heavy load that seems to go on forever as the rhythmic pressure against his prostate never seems to cease.

Hank groans somewhere in the background, the rush of blood in Connor's ears almost drowning it out. His hole clenches hard around the cock fucking it open, helpless to stop the relentless invasion, only making it feel larger and pressing it harder against all his sensitive spots inside. Connor jerks, pulling at the cuffs, feet kicking the bed in overwhelming desperation; his dick's no longer spurting his come, but it's still hard, and so fucking sensitive, sliding along sheets soaked in spunk as his prostate gets stimulated beyond his body's capacity to process; his orgasm should be over, but his body still rides the wave on the relentless pounding of Hank's cock.

The hands clutching his waist, keeping him pinned down, flex against him and Hank's hips slam into his sensitive ass, jarring him on every hard slam home. Connor squirms, unable to make any words that aren't _please_ or _daddy,_ when suddenly his breath gets knocked out of him as Hank thrusts into him _hard_ at the same time that he pulls Connor into it.

“Fuck!” Hank roars, and he's coming; thick cock twitching violently inside as he shoots off deep inside, hips grinding and twitching against Connor's ass. A weak dribble of come trickles out of Connor's slit, his still hard dick making a last effort, and Connor realizes dimly he's just come a second time. It's drowned out by Hank's stream of praise, voice rough and breathless, as he lies down to cover Connor completely; a comforting weight on his back, heated breath in his ear and the smell of sex and sweat all around them.

Connor doesn't realize he’s been gasping for breath until Hank's calm voice and hands, running up and down Connor's sides, brings him down to himself. He can still feel Hank inside of him, thick and slowly, slowly softening. Dribbles of come is escaping, a ticklish tease down his taint, and it makes his hole clench in reflex.

“Fuck, baby,” Hank groans, hips jerking at the pressure, fucking his still chubby dick into the grasping pressure of Connor's hole. “You're gonna kill me if you keep that up.”

Despite his words, he doesn't pull out, and Connor's glad; he's over sensitive everywhere, but the overwhelming feeling of Hank _all over_ anchors him from floating away completely. He takes a deep breath, letting out and relaxing with it, sinking into the bed and savoring the feeling of Hank above him.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Hank asks softly after a few moments, cock soft enough to slip out with an obscene noise. It leaves Connor's hole gaping, feeling open and wet, but Hank's heavy body on top of his prevents him from feeling overwhelmed by the vulnerability of it all.

“Safe,” Connor slurs slightly, pausing to clear his throat and lick his lips. “Good, daddy. I feel so good.”

Hank sighs happily, nosing at the sensitive skin behind Connor's ear, and places soft, affectionate kisses to any skin he can reach. “Me too, baby. You make me feel so good. I love you so much, you were incredible. You never cease to amaze me, baby boy.”

Connor let's those words carry him, boneless and sated, his tingling nerves slowly losing the edge of overstimulation and settling into something indecipherable. He feels warm, and safe, and exhausted.

It's not until he wakes up to a wet rag cleaning him up, hands free from the cuffs, followed with a straw being pressed to his lips, that he realizes he even fell asleep. Tiredly, he drinks, the cool water soothing his throat and quenching a thirst he hadn't even noticed. He doesn't feel like speaking, only feels a deep need snuggling close into Hank's embrace, hiding away from the world and just _existing._ He's feeling emotional, and needy, and he can't help the weak noises from escaping his mouth.

Hank puts the water away, hushes him gently, and tucks them both in. There's a towel over the wet spot, but Connor's mostly lying sprawled on top on Hank, so it barely registers. Instead, he hides his face in the warm crook of Hank's neck, basking in his scent, and making himself as small as he can with Hank's strong arms around him, holding him together, as his deep voice rumbles in his chest with sweet, nonsense words that pulls Connor into a state of bliss.

He falls asleep, again, like this; one moment awake, the other gone. He vaguely remembers kisses being pressed gently against his hair, hands running up and down his back, but it all blues together into the blissful satisfaction that drags him under to a deep, peaceful sleep. Finally, he's home.

 

xXx

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's commented and been so encouraging! It means a lot!!

**Author's Note:**

> I sweat I was gonna write Hank rimming Connor until he was a mess of tears and precum and DESPERATION but then my battery died and here we are.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this carcrash of a fic. Comments would be greatly appreciated <3


End file.
